Bienvenue au Japon!
by Tyffanie. T
Summary: A mysterious disappearance of a certain someone, leads Cheryl Danes to Japan. Hoping to find her sister she sets out to Tokyo, but she soon realizes that she's getting involved in something much more dangerous than what she expected...
1. Chapter 1: Welcome to Tokyo!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara! it belongs to Ryohgo Narita. Blah, blah, blah...**

**Tyffanie. T: Hey guys, this is my second time rewriting my series since I wasn't really well-prepared in the beginning. :( But right now, I had watch all the episodes so far and also read the novels up to Vol. 7 :) The novels kinda confused me, so my series would set place in the anime. :) Maybe, some of the novels; I'm still not quite sure. So, that's why it took so much time to update. :( But I have the other three chapters half-written, so it shouldn't take long to upload them here on FF. :D **

**PLEASE REVIEW!~ I'll really appreciate it. :) :) :) **

* * *

People are so easy to deceive; there are advertisements telling people to buy things people don't even need, yet they buy it since they think it might "change their lives". They. Are. Idiots. My father once told me_ "Don't think with your heart, think with your brain."_ But that was a rare occasion; my parents were always never home. My father was either at work or on a business travel and my mother was always in France or at the spa. I was raised by a string of nannies.

My sister kept me company, she was the spontaneous, bubbly, cheerleader type of girl and I was the quiet, weird, genius. I had entered high school when I was only eight years old. Apparently, the school board had me write an IQ test, I don't remember the score—no, it that that my parents didn't care, so why should I?

Anyways, I was suddenly in high school, in the same class as my sister—Clarisse, that's her name. She didn't mind though, she would often welcome me in her group of friends, even when they didn't like me. She didn't feel stupid or ashamed when I would often help her on her math homework.

In fact, she took pride of her "little genius" is what she used to call me. As cliché as I sound; she was my only friend and I loved her so much.

Thus, this is the reason why I'm here in this city, to find my sister who recently disappeared after our parent's car accident. At first I wasn't at all worried; my sister would often e-mail me everyday, talking about how great the culture was in Japan, and how much fun she was having. She said that she had recently bought herself a new apartment in Ikebukuro and she loved it.

I was happy for her, so I didn't take notice when she stopped e-mailing me, but when I e-mailed her again after a few weeks to tell her to return home for the contract signing of part of her inheritance. She didn't reply, and she failed to show up. I e-mailed her again, no reply. By this time I was getting frantic and I tried calling her, again and again, calling her friends, or anyone who knew her.

But, no one did hear from her since last week, so I decided to take matters in my own hands. I got on the nearest flight to Tokyo, contacted my father's former business associate who was a native in Japan, and took the train to Ikebukuro to meet up with him.

I already hate this city; it's too loud and too busy. The air is hard to breathe with the smell of garbage and the sewer. The humid weather makes my clothes stick to my skin from my sweat. I hate it. But I would have to remind myself that I'm here for Clarisse, my sister who was my only friend until I opened up my shell and became more sociable.

I looked down sadly at the bracelet she gave me on my 11th birthday. It was strung full of charms she had bought when she would travel all around the world. She said that she was going to add a Tokyo charm when she got back; she never got the chance.

I look at my watch; it read 6:50pm. He was 10 minutes late. I sigh in frustration as I lean back against the wall looking at my surroundings.

People were rushing back and forth, hurrying to get to wherever they needed to go. I glanced at the man on my left who had been staring at me for the past 5 minutes. He blushed as we made eye contact, and he started walking towards me.

Immediately, I felt self-conscious, wondering what he wanted from me. Turns out, he wanted to take my picture. Without waiting for an answer, he held his camera up and snapped a photo.

My eyes started to see spots, but as I quickly started blinking, I realized a black limousine had pulled up and the driver got out. I muttered a quick "Arigato" to the strange photographer, grabbed my bags and walked towards the driver of the shiny limousine. "Excuse me," the driver started to say in broken English "A-Are you Cheryl Danes?" I responded back in Japanese "Yes, I am" and without hesitation I asked "Is Mr. Nobu inside?" The driver stared at me in surprise, but said "Yes, Nobu-san is sitting at the back. May I take your luggage?"

He then started to pile my luggage in the trunk. To be honest, it wasn't much; I tend to travel light. I walked towards the back of the limo and I opened the door; a blast of cool air-conditioning welcomed me as I got in the vehicle.

"Hello Cheryl. It's nice to finally meet you again." said a very familiar voice. I smiled and replied in Japanese "Likewise Mr. Nobu."

He smiled back and said "Your accent has improved a lot, have you been practising?"

Japanese wasn't exactly hard for me to learn. My father was a mix of half Japanese and half American, so he insisted on making my sister and I take Japanese lessons. I had also once a nanny who only spoke Japanese, I suspected my father had hired her himself and brought her to America. All in all, Japanese was like my second-language.

"Yes, of course I have." I responded back sweetly; was one of my father's friends and associate. Apparently he used to take over my father's company in Japan while my father controls the company in America, now he has retired and had currently sold his own company for 500 billion yen.

My sister had told once told me that he holds a high influence on the police and the black market. I had highly doubt that it was true, but if it was; it would mean a great help to me on completing my mission. I asked him if he heard about the news of my sister disappearing. He nodded sadly.

"I'm so sorry Cheryl. I had contacted the police about this and they are trying very hard to find her. But as of right now…"

My heart sank "So, you don't know who's responsible for her disappearance?" looked concerned "Well, in Ikebukuro I heard that there is this gang…" he trailed off, I waited impatiently for him to continue "Go on."

"They are called "Dollars" he said.

"Dollars?" I ask

"Yes, the police are suspecting that they have something to do with all the other missing people…including your sister"

"Missing people? I never heard of this."

"There has been many missing people in Ikebukuro right now, mysteriously they disappear without anyone noticing." he said

"And do these missing people have anything to do with my sister?" I ask urgently Mr. Nobu shook his head "I doubt it, but you should call for help. I know this man-he's an information broker, and he should be able to help you."

He handed me a photo and a business card that said in bold letters "Izaya Orihara" with a phone number in small print. I looked at the photo; it was a young man in his twenties, with a long jacket with fur around its hood, he had a smirk on his face and for some reason this annoyed me greatly.

If I were to call him, I would have no inclination whatsoever to be too friendly with him. "Thanks, I'll give it a try."

But looked at me with concern "But do remember, you must be careful with this man. He is said to be dangerous if you cross him."

I nodded in agreement and sat back against the plush leather seat in silence. I open the tinted windows to look outside, and even though it was almost past seven at night and there were still plenty of people walking around, talking on their cell phones or chatting with their friends. All kinds of people were walking around on the streets: women, business men, part-timers, school girls in their uniforms, even foreigners all walking in the same crowd. Seeing this many people made my eyes hurt. I looked around as the limo drove to a stop and people began crossing.

Suddenly someone caught my eye; it was that young boy in his teens I had talked to on the train. His name was unusual to say the least " Mikado Ryūgamine" Mikado which meant "Emperor" and his family name Ryūgamine which meant "Peak of Dragons." I had tried not to laugh at that grandiose of a name and didn't comment on it. I remember him telling me that my Japanese was very good, and he was extremely impressed.

He had asked me what I was doing in Japan, and I told him that I was on a "study-abroad." He told me he was moving to Tokyo against the wishes of his parents to attend high school in the city. I had asked him if he would be lonely living by himself, he had answered brightly that he had a friend-I think his friend's name was

"Masaomi Kida."

I look outside to find Mikado talking to another Japanese boy with dyed brownish-blonde hair. Suddenly I heard something odd, it kinda reminded me of some animal-a horse's neigh or something like that. I leaned out farther from my seat to get a closer look. I listened carefully and realized the sound was coming from the highway and then I saw _it _.

It was a human on a pitch-black motorcycle. Mysteriously, it had no head-lights and it was weaving through the cars and traffic easily. As the human came closer, I realized it looked sort of like a _shadow_ with a yellow riding helmet. It then drove past the limo _without a sound_.

This struck me as weird-no abnormal. I usually hate the noise and pollution that a motorcycle gives out, but this one-another second the engine gave another roar. I saw that half the people on the streets were staring after the "being" with incredulous looks. I was with them; for some reason it felt like I witnessed something incredible.

I turned towards Mr. Nobu for some answers. He chucked as he looked at my expression "I've never seen you that surprised before Cheryl."

"What was that?" I asked, he smiled again "That, you just saw was the urban legend in Ikebukuro." He continued "You are very lucky to see it on your very first day here-close up as well. They say he doesn't have a head and I've only seen "it" from a distance"

I look back towards the streets and saw that Mikado and his friend had already walked away. I close the tinted windows and sat back in my seat, my head swirling with thoughts.

Could this day get any weirder? My sister's missing and the reason might be because of this mysterious/dangerous "Dollars" gang, I am probably going to need help from this "Izaya Orihara" guy whom I don't trust at all, and I witnessed an urban legend close up, who is not human and doesn't have a head.

"So, where exactly am I staying?" I ask Mr. Nobu, trying not to think of a headless person.

"You'll be staying in one of my penthouses, it has a beautiful view, so you should be comfortable in it."

"Oh no, you don't have to do that, I was thinking of staying in a hotel or something." Mr. Nobu shook his head "No, it's quite alright. I don't stay at that penthouse anyways, and I would like to help you in any way possible."

I beamed at him "Thanks, I really appreciate it."

At a quarter to 8, the limo reached to a stop and the door opened. I got out of the limo, the noise and the humid air contrasted against the cool air-conditioning and the silence in the limo. I look up at the apartment building; it must be at least 25 floors and it looked very classy.

I realized that my luggage was already gotten out of the trunk and was carefully placed on the ground. I thanked the driver and turned to Mr. Nobu "Thank you so much for everything." He gave a wave of his hand and said "It's my pleasure, I'll keep you contacted on any other information on your sister."

I nod and gave him a smile "I'll talk to you soon." and I waved goodbye as I watched the limousine drive off on the road.

I turned back to the apartment and grabbed my bags and walked towards the entrance. In about 10 minutes, my luggage was already in my room and I was lying on my king-sized bed.

For a penthouse that hasn't been lived in, it was certainly spacious and clean. There must have been a maid or someone to clean up once in a while. It had four rooms, one I supposed, was the work room, the other (my room) was the master bedroom complete with a bathroom with a Jacuzzi and a bathtub. The others were just bare rooms for storage space, but one of the rooms was locked. _"Probably just antiques." _I said to myself.

"_This place must have cost a fortune." _I thought idly as I unpacked my clothes. But I wasn't surprised; I was used to this kind of living-my father was a business man of an oil company and my mother was once an international supermodel turned socialite. Which resulted in my father often going away on business travels and my mother spending her time in France.

I turned on my laptop, and stifled a yawn. I was so tired, probably because of the jetlag. I went on Google and typed in my sister's name, the results were just awards she won at our private high school and an interview she did on "How was it like to be a billionaire's daughter."

There was absolutely no news about her disappearance in Japan. I understood immediately; Mr. Nobu must've told the police not to say anything, if word got out that billion dollar heiress Clarisse Danes went missing in Japan, combined with their parents car accident-the reporters will have a field day.

There was a lot of coverage on her parent's death. I remember that I was bombarded with reporters asking me "Do you think it was an accident?" or "Cheryl Danes! How does a child-prodigy like you cope with such a devastating incident."

I sighed in relief and made a mental note to thank Mr. Nobu again for his quick thinking. Having reporters breathing down my neck was not a good idea. So, I then searched up the mysterious gang "Dollars". After a couple of clicks, I came across a chat room. I wondered hesitantly if I should log in, but I shrugged and decided _"What the hell" _because that was the beauty of the internet-nobody really knows who you are.

I logged in as "Akira" posing as a teenage boy.

**Akira has entered the chat room**

**Setton: **Good evening Akira!

**Tanaka Taro: **Hello Akira! I've never seen you around before.

**Akira: **Good evening, that's because I'm new. I just gotten my first laptop! J

**Kanra: **No way! Your first laptop? Congrats ^^

**Akira: **Hey, my parents told me there has been a lot of missing people lately…

**Kanra: **Weeell, probably because they're illegal immigrants, or children who've run away from the countryside. It appears to happen a lot between Ikebukuro and Shibuya. There are even rumours that it might just be the guys from "Dollars" who're snatching them and gobbling them up, you know? Hehehee…

I was now intrigued, so the "Dollars" were behind all these missing people. I quickly responded.

**Akira: **Dollars?

**Kanra: **Dollars are really quite something! It's said that they recently held negotiations with the Chinese triads, and that the yakuza stabbings the other day were the work of the Dollars underlings!

**Tanaka Taro: **Kanra-san, how do you know all this stuff?

**Kanra: **I know people who are pretty familiar with this, that's why.

**Akira: **Wooww, that's pretty scary…

**Setton: **Don't worry, just try not to think about this sort of stuff and you'll be fine!

**Akira: **Thanks Setton-san. ^^

**Setton: **No problem. J

**Akira: **Well, it was nice to talking to you guys, but I have to get up early tmr so good night!

**Tanaka Taro: **Sob! Me too, I have to wake up early as well. So I'll call it a night.

**Setton: **Good night Tanaka Taro, and Akira!

**Kanra: **Ah, let's call it a day here. Since no one else is going to come on.

**Akira: **Bye Bye~

**Tanaka Taro **has left the chat room-**Kanra** has left the chat room-**Setton** has left the chat room-**Akira** has left the chat room

I looked at the blank screen for a while; my head was spinning with questions rather than the answers I was hoping for. So, was my sister involved in this "Dollars" gang? Judging from what they had said, it seemed like they were pretty dangerous and from what "Kanra" had told her, it seemed that the missing people were more likely people with no family. Illegal immigrants were likely easy to kidnap since they couldn't go to the police without getting deported, the children who had run away from the countryside were easy as well-in a nutshell these missing people were people who would not be likely to be reported missing. No family, and no relatives.

But what for? I started to bit my thumb, a habit I did when I was nervous or concentrated. Prostitution? Highly plausible. Human trafficking? Maybe. Human experiments? Unlikely.

I lay down on the bed, thinking hard. Perhaps they are using my sister to get money. Clarisse did like to flaunt her wealth by buying expensive designer brands, or eating out at high-end places.

But my eyelids started to feel like they weighed a ton, and slowly I closed my eyelids. The next thing I knew, I was already falling asleep.


	2. Chapter 2: Meet and Greet

Cheryl Danes had woken up from a surprisingly good sleep. She yawned as she stretched her arms. She stumbled towards the bathroom and to her horror, she had fallen asleep without removing her makeup or taking a shower.

She sighed unhappily, wondering if her face would show up with any unsightly spots. Cheryl then quickly went to her room to get her towel and came back, looking at her reflection. No spots, not one unsightly spot at all.

She smiled happily as she turned on the taps and entered the shower letting the hot water hit her skin. Shapely breasts curved down to a taut abdomen. She had a figure as perfect as a model's and a head to match. She scrubbed the body wash on her silky skin and shampooed her blonde hair. As she finished rinsing, she thought of what she would do this afternoon.

First, she needed to call for the keys to Clarisse's apartment, she wanted to have a look at anything the police might have missed. She then thought of that "Izaya Orihara" guy…

Cheryl was never the one to ask for help, it was a matter of pride and she prided on her intelligence to help her solve any problem.

Decision made , she started to dry herself with her towel. She wiped the steam off the mirror and saw her reflection.

She had a pretty face and she also prided herself on that. Thank god for her mother's genes. She had her mother's wavy, blonde hair, and was blessed for her mother's straight ski-slope nose. Combined with her blue-green eyes and a model figure, she could pass off as her mother when she was still a supermodel.

Her sister looked more like her father, she still had a head of blonde hair but her features was slightly flatter than Cheryl's but she had warm brown eyes, instead of piecing blue-green. Clarisse was also the one with more friends and boyfriends. Everyone loved her personality and she was always cheerful and never got angry at anyone.

Cheryl wrapped herself up with her towel and walked out of the bathroom, putting on her favourite pair of jeans and her tank-top. She glanced at her watch; it was 9:30am. She grabbed her purse and walked towards the door. This was going to be one hell of a day.

An hour later, Mr. Nobu's secretary had his driver deliver Clarisse's keys and had also given her the address. Cheryl walked towards the busy street and decided to hail a cab. Then that's when she saw _him_.

He was still supporting that same black jacket in that photo with fur around it's hoodie under the sweltering heat, "Isn't he dying under that?" she muttered to herself as she was already suffering from the humid weather.

But he looked perfectly at ease as he surveyed the crowd. He seemed to know that someone was staring at him, since he had turned around and made eye contact with her.

Cheryl didn't look down, she held her gaze. Then he smirked that obnoxious smirk in that photo, then in a blink of an eye; he disappeared.

Izaya Orihara looked at the crowd of people. Today was Monday and it was his favourite day of the week. Partly was because everyone was so busy and they rushed to go to work, school, etc. He saw two school girls giggling at a picture on their cell phones as another girl walked up to them. The two school girls quickly snapped there cell phones away and whispered to each other in hushed voices as the other girl walked closer towards them. He saw a couple walking hand-in-hand and another pretty woman was with them. Judging from the way the pretty woman was talking to the girlfriend; they were obviously friends. But, with a detailed eye Izaya could easily see the longing and lust in the boyfriend's wandering eyes at the back of the pretty woman.

This was the reason he _loved_ humans; the way they could change their personalities in a second, how some of them could get whatever they wanted simply by their looks or superficial charm. The way they were almost so predictable, it was funny.

But Izaya had felt someone's eyes on him, so naturally he turned around to look for the culprit. He had caught her red-handed. But instead of looking away or blushing, she held her gaze. The foreigner was very pretty, he could have sworn he had saw her in a magazine somewhere. He always liked watching foreigners from afar; how they would start snapping pictures at everything they saw or how they would look at their maps with confused expressions.

But this woman did neither of those things, in fact she had continued to stare at him and didn't stop until Izaya smirked at her, then her expression changed into a scowl as if she was greatly annoyed at him. This amused him "Did she know me?" he wondered out loud, and started weaving through the crowd easily. Humans are so interesting. He chuckled to himself as he picked up his cell phone; he on a business trip after all "Hello? Ah yes…"

Cheryl Danes shivered slightly in the cold air-conditioned cab. She was already on her way over to the apartment and she was starting to feel butterflies in her stomach. What if she found something that she wouldn't want to know? Mr. Nobu had told her that the police didn't find anything to help them on her disappearance.

Cheryl let her mind wander back to that man she saw earlier on. Now, she disliked him even more. But she had no idea why; she had never met him before, so why was she feeling such an intense dislike to him.

She pondered about this while the cab driver was muttering under his breath about the traffic. But Cheryl couldn't come up with a conclusion; she just didn't like him. Finally the taxi driver slowed to a stop and she thanked him and payed him the money.

As the cab slowly drove away, Cheryl stopped dead in her tracks. Her sister's apartment was surprisly…modest. Knowing her sister with her taste in high fashion and expensive jewellery, Cheryl expected a fancy penthouse, similar to the one she was staying in. But it was rather shabby with peeling paint coming off and the cement slightly cracked in different places.

Nevertheless, Cheryl gripped the keys and slowly walked towards the building. As she reached room 341, she entered the key in the keyhole and the door opened with a loud "clack". Cheryl entered and gasped.

It was a mess. Empty cup noodles were stacked on a coffee table covered in dust and garbage. Flies were circling around it. Cheryl looked at it in horror and beads of cold sweat began to form on her face. What happened?

Cheryl opened the other room. It was filled with clothing, but not just any type of clothing; designer brands. Gucci, Louis Vutton, Chanel, Prada, etc. There must have been at least 20 designer bags. Cheryl could barely walk in.

But despite the mess in the living room, Cheryl felt a smile tugging at her lips; her sister was still the same. She still loved her fashion. Cheryl started rummaging her clothes, but they felt rather odd. They were stiff, rather like they had never been worn before. "Of, course," she thought humourlessly "She has so much clothes, she doesn't have time to wear all of them." So, Cheryl continued to search in the pockets, and purses; looking for something that might give her a clue, whether it was a scrap piece of paper with a phone number, or a bill, anything.

But after at least half-an-hour later, she could find nothing-nothing at all; not even a gum wrapper. Cheryl sighed in defeat, stood up, and wiped the dust of her jeans. She turned to the last door on her left, and saw that the door was already open. She walked inside and found a single bed, and a wooden desk.

On top of the wooden desk was simply a photograph, a lump started to form in her throat as she stared at it. It was a picture of her 16th birthday with her sister. They were both smiling widely at the camera. Cheryl's arm was loped around her sister and they just looked so _happy_.

Cheryl picked up the picture frame and stared at it silently, then realized water droplets were falling on it. She was crying. More tears fell on the picture frame softly. Cheryl was surprised as she wiped away the tears. She almost never cried; not even at her parent's funeral.

She stared at the photograph silently and put it back gently on the desk. She looked around and found that besides the desk, there was a futon and nothing more. Cheryl sat there confused. Had her sister really changed? Apart from all the designer clothes, her sister's apartment was really simple, unlike her sister's usual extravagant taste. Cheryl sneezed loudly. She sniffled and reached for a tissue from her pocket, then she realized something was wrong. Mr. Nobu must have contacted the police but had told them not to let the media know. If that was the case, why was the apartment covered in an inch with dust?

Cheryl's cell phone vibrated suddenly, she glanced at the caller ID; it read Mr. Nobu. She picked up and replied "Hello?"

Cheryl Danes walked down the busy streets careful not to bump into anyone. But that was rather difficult since it was the most busiest time of the day. People going home from work or school. Cheryl walked with her head down in disappointment, another day wasted, she had not gotten any clues whatsoever on her sister's disappearance. "Sorry!" Someone exclaimed, Cheryl felt herself trip and landed on the concrete ground with a thud. "I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" Cheryl blinked and looked up to see who the culprit was. He looked oddly familiar with a worried look on his face… Mikado Ryugamine. "Ah, would you look at that you had just wounded a fair maiden!" Another voice had said, Cheryl looked up at the hand that was offered to her, "I'm Masaomi Kida, pleased to meet you!" he had said in English heavily accented in Japanese.

But she smiled and took it while getting up "Hello, my name is Cheryl Danes," she noticed the look of surprise on Mikado's face "We've met before Mikado."

Masaomi Kida and Mikado Ryugamine walked side by side talking about how school went in their classes. "It's soo boring!" sighed Kida, "There is almost nothing to do…" Then he continued "Eh, weren't you made class representative with that cute chick in your class?" Mikado blushed, "Her name is-he then suddenly bumped into a person, "Ah, I-that person fell onto the floor. It was a foreigner, and a woman as well. _"Oh no! What should I say? My English isn't that good, should I apologise in Japanese?" _thought Mikado frantically.

In that split second, he decided on Japanese "I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" he said worriedly, the woman looked up at him. His heart skipped a beat as he realized who she was, it was that woman on the train he had met on his first day in Tokyo. He remembered that she was on a study abroad in Japan.

"Ah, would you look at that you had just wounded a fair maiden!" exclaimed Kida, Mikado saw that he had offered his hand to help the woman up "I'm Masaomi Kida, pleased to meet you!" he had said in English, of course Kida would have the guts to do such a thing, but he wondered idly how would Kida react if he had gotten rejected; probably hit on some other poor girl.

Cheryl started to wipe of the dirt from her jeans "Mikado! You didn't tell me you've met this super-gorgeous model that can speak fluent Japanese!" exclaimed Kida dramatically. Cheryl couldn't help, but giggle and say "Your very funny, but I'm not a model." she explained "Really? Well you look like one, why don't we go out so I can get to know you better?" said Kida excitedly, Cheryl smiled while Mikado looked worried "Um, I think we should- "How about we exchange numbers!" said Kida while flipping out his cell phone.

Mikado looked at the pair exchanging numbers on their respective cell phones. He heard the foreigner say "Well, sorry but I'm in kinda a rush. I hope to you see you guys again!" "Um!" Before Mikado can so goodbye, she had rushed off. "Poor Mikado, you didn't have the chance to get her number!" exclaimed Kida "No! It's not like that!" Mikado protested. "It's that you just met her, couldn't she be some crazy stalker or something?" Kida winked at him "A girl that pretty can't be a stalker, and besides it was you that introduced her to me…" he continued "So, it'll be your fault!" he said laughing as he ran off "I'll see you tomorrow!" he yelled. "B-but!" Mikado sighed; sometimes he really admired Kida's guts.

Cheryl felt bad for leaving in such a rush. But she did had to rush; Mr. Nobu had called to invite her to be his date for an important event he was invited to, and it was to honar some rich doctor, she didn't pay attention to the details just that he was picking her up at 8:00. Speaking of time…Cheryl glanced at her watch; it was almost 7:30 already. "Crap!" muttered Cheryl as she hailed for her cab, she hated being late.

Cheryl entered the red plush carpet in her high heels, she saw herself blinded by flashing lights, "-san! Who is the woman!" "Is it true you're building a new company!" "Mr. Nobu-san look over here!" Mr. Nobu leaned over to whisper in her ear, "You get used to it." he said smiling. Cheryl glanced around and realized this "party" was more important than she thought it would be. She could see beautiful woman in their late 20's smiling brightly at the cameras. Cheryl smiled nervously as she slightly wobbled towards the entrance; she was not used to wearing heels.

"Oh no, here he comes." muttered Mr. Nobu, suddenly a huge scream erupted from the crowds, Cheryl turned around to find a handsome man climbing out of the limousine. "Hanejima Yuuhei! Over here!" "Is it true you're having the lead role in a Hollywood movie!" The reporters had to scream the questions out as a group of fan girls had suddenly appeared and kept on screaming for an autograph. But the man silently nodded at his fans and walked towards the entrance without so much as a glance at the reporters. "Ah, Yuuhei-san long time no see." Kasuka stopped in front of them with his burly bodyguard looking very intently at Cheryl; Cheryl felt goose bumps rising.

"I heard you made another good investment on Takashi Corp. Didn't the stock raise 20% in a week?" Yuuhei simply nodded and replied "Yes, it did." in a rather emotionless voice. Cheryl had a feeling he wasn't very talkative, "Oh, how forgetful of me, Yuuhei-san this is Cheryl Danes my date for this evening." said Mr. Nobu proudly, Cheryl politely shook his hand "Pleasure to meet you." he said in that same emotionless voice, "Likewise." she replied with a sweet smile; it wouldn't hurt to be polite. "Shall we go on?" asked Mr. Nobu and Cheryl nodded.

Mr. Nobu spoke very fast " His real name is Kasuka Heiwajima and he is every teenage girl's fantasy boyfriend, he was originally a model, but he made a couple of good investments on this game show and made billions of dollars. From that day on, he turned into a famous actor, making millions from his movies. A new one had just currently been released "A new Night" have you seen it?"

"No, I don't think I have." replied Cheryl, she briefly recalled seeing a billboard of such movie, but didn't really pay attention to it. "So, did you talk to that information broker yet?" Cheryl hesitated "Err…No…Not yet…" She continued "Mr. Nobu…Did you contact-Suddenly someone had said "Ah, Nobu-san, it's soo good to see you again!" "Ah, it's you! Cheryl, allow me to introduce to you…"

Cheryl faked a smile, this was going to be a long night.

Cheryl walked into her apartment room. The lobby was silent downstairs, as it was almost 10. In her opinion the evening wasn't as fun as she thought. It was quite tiring, meeting all those important people and faking smiles. She sighed in relief as she took off her high heels, and glanced longingly at her bed. But instead she dragged herself to take a quick shower and turned on her laptop. She logged on again as Akira.

**Akira has entered the chat room. **

**Akira: **Wow, you guys are still up?

**Setton: **Hello, Akira! How was your day today?

**Akira: **Tiring. T_T

**Bakyura: **I had a great day! ^^

**Akira: **Oh? Why is that?

**Bakyura: **I gotten a number from this super-gorgeous foreigner!

Cheryl blinked, that's right. She remembered she did give her phone number to Masaomi Kida. Was **Bakyura **Masaomi?

**Kanra: **How did you do that? Did she speak Japanese?

**Bakyura: **Yep! She was actually very fluent.

**Akira: **So, what did she look like? Blonde hair with blue eyes?

Cheryl started to bit her thumbnail.

**Bakyura: **Wow! How did you know? But I think her eyes were green, like emeralds…Glittering…

Cheryl stopped biting her thumb, _"It's okay…They still don't know who I am…" _she thought.

**Kanra: **Lucky!~ I always want to have blonde hair and blue eyes! You know, I saw a foreigner like that today too!

Cheryl's eyes widened as she thought of that morning. _"No, it couldn't possibly be…" _She quickly typed a response.

**Akira: **Wow, the same woman? That's strange.

**Kanra: **Isn't it? But this woman was also very pretty with legs I would kill for! L

**Bakyura: **Maybe, it was just an overseas model?

**Setton: **Woww, it's not everyday you meet a foreigner who gives you your number…What's her name?

Cheryl's heart nearly stopped beating in that second. To her immense relief, Bakyura had replied.

**Bakyura: **I can't tell you!~ It's a secret! ^^

**Akira: **Sigh, I wish I could meet a gorgeous girl like that…Well, I'm going to bed guys! Good night. J

**Setton: **Night.

**Bakyura: **I'm just a lucky guy! Good night!

**Akira** has left the chat room.

Cheryl closed her laptop, and laid on her bed thinking. "Should I call this Orihara person?" She fiddled his card with her fingers and looked at his number. She had to; for the sake of finding her sister. Since he would obviously know Japan more than she does and the underground workings. So she swallowed her pride and started dialling.

* * *

**Tyffanie. T: Alrighty then. This is my second chapter of DRR! :) Very happy that I finished it, and chapter 3 is on it's way! :D In this chapter I wanted to put in some of the characters in this story, rather then just Izaya and Cheryl. I tried to portray Kida-kun an Mikado, like they do in the anime. But I hope Cheryl isn't Mary-sueish. I mean, she has flaws that will be shown in the later chapters, and in this one. She seems to be vain and she prides on herself for being smart. That's why she doesn't want Izaya's help. :) Alrightly, enough with me talking... I will try to update in a week! :D Peace! **


	3. Chapter 3: Dancing with the Devil

**Tyffanie: GAHHH! I am so sorry it took so long to update! :( And it's pretty short too! T_T It looked a lot longer on my Word Doc... I will finish this story since I have lots of ideas I want to put down! Many thanks to the people that reviewed! It really means a lot too me! :) Happy reading!**

* * *

Cheryl already hated the place. At the moment she was in Shinjuku at a rather upscale apartment of the man she despised the most since her arrival in Tokyo. Izaya Orihara. But he had welcomed her warmly, asked her if she would like a cup of tea. Cheryl politely declined thinking to herself _"I bet it's poisoned." _

He smiled at her and said "I must say, I never had a foreigner as a client before," he continued on "Especially one so pretty and fluent in my language." He continued to smile—no smirk.

Cheryl had to keep herself from clenching her hand. She smiled sweetly at him, and replied in a short "Thank you." Izaya continued to talk "How is your sister by the way? Cheryl." The way he said her name made her skin crawl. "How sad it is for her to be missing—I mean, right after your parent's car accident." he said sympathetically.

Cheryl absolutely despised this man, how dare he bring up her parent's death? But Cheryl kept her mouth shut and simply nodded, she said to him smiling at him "Well done, so you've done your homework. Now instead of this idle chatter, you can go find some information on my sister."

But Izaya kept on smirking, "Why don't you? You are, of course the child-prodigy." He went over to his desk and pulled out a file from one of its drawers. "Interesting, you had graduated of a private high school as the valedictorian at the age of 9-impressive." He continued to read from the file "You went on to Harvard taking psychology as your major, you received your PhD at the age of _16_ after completing your Master's Degree, you then became a professional profiler. But because of you're missing sister; you had to give that up and came to Japan." Izaya glanced at the folder again "It also seems that you have won plenty of awards in acrobatics and track." "Very impressive."

Cheryl already knew this and yet, he was still saying it. Cheryl could feel the pain in her hands and realized her fingernails were digging into her palms. She unclenched slowly. Yes, she knew she was a profiler; throughout the years of school she became extremely good at reading people, noticing the habits and mannerisms that betrayed their intentions. Her friends had told her she would become one hell of a profiler, so that's what she wanted to do. But because of her parent's death and her sister missing she had to go to Japan; her job as a profiler was put on hold.

Cheryl's eyes flickered on to the despicable man in front of her; he still had that smirk on his face and an all-too-knowing look in his eye. Cheryl was never good at keeping her emotions down, so clenching her hand again was all she could do from punching him in the face. But Cheryl couldn't help, but notice he had a beautiful face. Cheryl glared at him and replied "No, I can't. Since isn't this _your _job? Finding underground information for people? Besides, if you doubt your abilities-Cheryl gave him a smirk worthy of his own "Maybe I should find my sister myself."

Izaya's smirk slowly turned to a smile, as he leaned his slender body into the sofa "Maybe you should, but I doubt that you know the streets of Tokyo better than I do."

"That's why I'm asking you. So, please; don't disappoint me Izaya-san after I heard so many great things about you." Cheryl was lying through her teeth.

"Finding a foreigner isn't always easy though…"

"Money is not an objection"

"I'll see what I can do." He said as he walked over to his computer.

Cheryl looked down at the table in front of her, it was a shogi board; a game that she was quite fond of. But this one had three king pieces on it-something that struck her odd.

Izaya looked glanced at the foreigner sitting tensely on the sofa. He was surprised to see a foreigner so young from the conversation he had with her a day ago.

Izaya was sitting back against his arm chair; bored. He looked outside at the streets; it was dark outside, but the bright lights in Shinjuku made it bright and lively. "I am soo bored!" he said to himself, then suddenly as if someone had heard him; he received a call.

It was a number he was unfamiliar with, but he still picked up the phone.

"Helloo?"

"This is Orihara Izaya-san isn't it."

This voice was clearly a female who rang of authority, but her Japanese had a slight American accent. This intrigued him.

"Yes, speaking. What can I do for you?" he asked pleasantly

This continued on for a minute, as Izaya gave her his address and she gave him her name hesitantly. He waited patiently.

"It's Cheryl Danes"

Izaya Orihara had immediately searched her up, and he was very impressed by her background. When she had came to his apartment; she looked nothing like the bookish, mousy stereotypical genius. In fact, she was beautiful like a supermodel… and she looked exactly like the other women he saw the day before.

_"Brains with beauty, she's dangerous." _he thought amused, while he welcomed her warmly to his apartment, and even gave her a compliment. She only replied with a stiff "Thank you" and didn't turn her gaze off him.

Izaya could tell she didn't like him which confused him "Why? Humans must love me." But he didn't say anything and offered her some tea, she had politely refused. So, Izaya sat down opposite of her and looked at her and spoke "How is your sister by the way Cheryl?" Her name rolled off his tongue when he spoke it, then he said in the most sympathetic voice he could "How sad it is for her to be missing-I mean, right after your parent's car accident…"

Cheryl wondered how long she would have to wait. She listened to him as he typed furiously on his computer. She fiddled absent-mindedly with a lock of hair that had fallen out of her sloppy bun. Today, she hadn't put any effort at all in her appearance. Almost zero makeup, worn-in jeans, a plain t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. She didn't even put on her contacts and had to rely on her old glasses.

In a nutshell, she was a mess. After, she had realized that she couldn't find her sister without Izaya Orihara's help; she was too annoyed to be properly dressed up.

A minute later, Izaya called her over. Cheryl walked in front of his desk.

"Your sister was very fond of Host Clubs. Her most favorite host was the owner Issei Isayama."

"Host Clubs?"

"There clubs where the females relax while the male hosts entertain them, I heard it's quite expensive." he stated matter-of-factly, Cheryl thought for a moment, yes, it was plausible that Clarisse did like to be pampered; especially with good-looking men that were trained to entertain.

Cheryl spoke "Where is this Host Club?" Izaya immediately answered "It's in Ikebukuro, and its name is "Stylish Café Raykyo." Cheryl felt a buzz of excitement rising up her spine, but she tried to keep herself from smiling. "I see. Call me if you find anything…" She walked towards the door "I'll send you the cheque tomorrow." With that, she slammed the door.

Izaya couldn't stop smiling. He had finally something exciting to do. He knew she was excited about this piece of news, her eyes had lit up when he had told her, and the corners of her mouth twitched as if she was trying to hide a smile. Izaya knew what she was going to do; she was going to a little bit of detective work and go to the Café herself.

He laughed while spinning in his chair, so she was the same as any human. So damn predictable. He stopped spinning as he made a phone call "Hello?" "Yes, there is a woman I think you'll be interested in…."

The minute she got home, Cheryl turned on her laptop and searched up the café extensively. There were about 20 hosts working at the club, all of them were in there early or late 20's. Cheryl realized you can actually pick the host you would want to be entertained by. Cheryl glanced at the top 10 and there he was "Issei Isayama" at number 1. She smiled to herself, but looked down her clothes. She was still living out of her suitcase, because still too tired to put everything in that walk-in closet.

Cheryl frowned slightly, her clothes weren't exactly "high-class" even though she had a lot of money she would often buy her clothes at Gap. Her sister was more into the high fashion, _"Well, I guess I should do some shopping…" _

Half an hour later she was dressed completely head to toe in Chanel. She looked into her reflection while walking towards the host club. She smiled at herself; this was probably going to work. There were crowds of people walking, and in the midst of the people she spotted the bright neon sign. "Stylish Café Raykyo." She walked toward the sign and spotted their touts dressed handsomely in expensive suits, Cheryl walked towards them. "Excuse me," she said confidently "Are you from Stylish Café Raykyo?" The two of them looked surprised, (Cheryl noticed one of them stared at her shoes) but said back warmly "Yes, are you interested?" Cheryl smiled brightly "Of course!"

The man immediately led her through the door, and Cheryl was presented a menu. She opened it and was staring at photos of the available members. Without hesitation, she said "Issei Isayama." The man looked slightly nervous, "Um, Issei-sama is currently busy- "Please, I only want Issei-san." She reached for her purse and fished out a black card "Do you take American Express?" She glanced at the man in front of her swallowing nervously, she could tell he was debating whether or not to ask for Issei-san.

"I'll go see what I can do." She held back a victory grin and simply nodded. A minute later, the man directed her to a room at the back "Right this way." Cheryl passed by several other girls with their respective hosts, drinking, laughing, and even singing. "Hello, so you must be the beautiful model who specifically requested me…" "I am honored." Issei Isayama stood up and said to her "Please sit." Cheryl sat down, and tried not to make herself look uncomfortable. She saw him pour her a drink, and handing it to her.

She swallowed in one gulp and felt the smokey, woody flavor slid down her throat. Scotch, she presumed and of course, it tasted expensive. He poured her another one, "So, have you had a Japanese boyfriend?" he said with a smirk, "No, I haven't had the pleasure." she said coyly. She reached for her purse and took out a cigarette; he automatically lit it. She inhaled the smoke, and they started chatting about whatever that was on her mind. After three cigarettes and a bottle of wine (Château Cheval Blanc), Cheryl was feeling slightly tipsy and decided to ask the question before she'd get any drunker. "Hey, did you know a girl named Clarissa Danes?" Issei-san grinned "Yeah, I did know someone with that name…" he took a swig of the wine "Charming girl…"

Cheryl pressed on, "You know, she often came here…and she was the one who told me about you." Issei was pouring her another glass "Yeah, she used to come here often…" but he didn't seem to want to talk it about farther. Cheryl didn't press on, but instead smiled and took a sip of the wine. "Cheers."

After a couple of hours, Cheryl had probably spent more than a million dollars on alcohol and she was feeling quite sick. But it wasn't all a total waste, she noticed whenever she mentioned her sister, his Adam's apple would bob up and down nervously, and he would never make eye contact with her after she mentioned that Clarissa was her sister. He knew something, and Cheryl was going to find out what.

Cheryl stumbled onto the streets, and debated whether to take the metro or a taxi. Her penthouse wasn't far from here; in fact it only took 10 minutes by train. Decision made, she wobbled (those damn shoes) down the streets.

"Urgggg, I feel sick." She moaned, she always had quite a high tolerance of alcohol, but never drank as much as this before. She sat down on a bench in a rather secluded park. She noticed from afar a van had parked across the street, and two men had got out of it. Cheryl realized they were coming towards her.

"Is this the one he told us about?" asked one of the men. "It must be, he told us blonde and beautiful…" he glanced leeringly down at her. Cheryl felt her hairs stand up, and she immediately got up and was about to start walking when—"Hey, where you going girlie?" The man stank of grease and cheap aftershave. He grabbed her arm, as if on instinct Cheryl punched him "Don't touch me!" she snarled. The man howled in pain, and cried "You bitch!" Without another warning he pushed her hard, and because of her heels she fell backwards—hard. A sickening crack was heard and Cheryl felt her wrist break.

"You okay?" "Yeah, fucking bitch…" "Let's just get her and get out of here!" They moved towards her and Cheryl was now quite frightened. She knew there wasn't a way out of this, what with her broken wrist and pounding head…she was trapped like a bird in a cage. She closed her eyes waiting for the worst to happen, but instead of grubby hands grabbing her and hauling her towards the van. Cheryl heard yells, a lot of swearing—and even begging? Cheryl opened her eyes, but her vision was rather blurred and she could barely think straight because of the alcohol and the pain. Her eyelids grew increasingly heavier, and the last thing she saw was a rather strange man dressed in black and white…kinda like a bartender. Then darkness swallowed her up.


	4. Chapter 4: Questions Unanswered

**Tyffanie.T: I'm still alive! :) Sorry it took soo long to update, but since school started I have a lot of hw to hand in... :( But I promise to finish this story! :) Thanks to all those who reviewed, I really appreciate this! :D **

* * *

Cheryl had woken up to a huge headache, and not a very good night's sleep. She moaned as she stretched, but gave a gasp of pain. She realized she had a cast on her wrist with big bold letters in English saying "Get well soon!" Memories of last night came flashing towards her, the hosts, the drinking, the two men who tried to abduct her…then, that other strangely dressed man…

Cheryl looked around and was rather unnerved. The room wasn't hers, and she was wearing…pyjamas? She got off the bed, and opened the door rather nervously. What greeted her was a rather clean apartment, and a man with a doctor's coat. "Good morning!" said the man in English.

Cheryl was shocked to say the least, but gathered her nerves and said back politely in Japanese "Good morning?" The man looked shocked, "Ohhh! So you do speak Japanese! That's wonderful! I was so nervous about speaking English to you since my English isn't that great…I've been to America of course, but—"Um, I'm sorry…but where am I?" Cheryl interrupted; his constant talking wasn't helping her headache. "Oh, where are my manners! My name is Shinra Kishitani, and I'm a doctor!" _"Ah, hence the white coal,." _thought Cheryl "I was the one who treated your broken wrist, Shizuo told me all about—"Sorry, to interrupt but the man who saved me…his name is Shizuo?" "Shizuo Heiwajima." He stated and then continued "He brought you here very late…I was almost going to bed when he started banging at my door…"

While Shinra babbled on, Cheryl was thinking deeply. Her headache had mysteriously disappeared when she heard of that surname, _"Heiwajima…I heard of that name before…" _Then it was like a light bulb that formed in her head, and she quickly asked Shinra "Excuse me, and is he the brother of Kasuka Heiwajima?" Shinra's mouth opened and closed, "Ah, yes he is! You are well-informed, not many people know that!"

"Oh, it's nothing…" Cheryl trailed off and stared into space. An awkward silence filled the air and Cheryl continued "Um, thank you for everything but I really can't intrude on your hospitality any longer…" Shinra quickly exclaimed "Oh no, my pleasure really!" He pointed towards the chair on the dinning table "You're clothes are there, it's been washed."

Cheryl nodded and muttered a thank you as she grabbed the clothes and entered a room to change. A few minutes later she came out and bowed "Once again, I thank you so much. Please tell Shizuo-san that I said thank you when you see him." Shinra smiled and nodded, while Cheryl went to get her shoes.

She was about to walk out the door and reach for the doorknob, when it opened and there stood a person. Cheryl stared and was met with a memory of her first day in Japan. Skin tight, shadowy like suit and a rather strange yellow motorcycle helmet...if Cheryl had to make a logical guess based on her memory, she would say that this person looked exactly like the so called "Headless Rider."

A few moments later Cheryl realized she was staring and quickly bowed "Um, good morning!" "Oh um…Celty! I didn't expect you to come back so early…um…how was it? Said Shinra rather nervously, the person didn't say anything and simple took out phone and typed quickly on it "Good morning," and typed on it again, this time to Shinra "I didn't know you had a guest."

Cheryl stared at the kanji Celty had typed in and realized that the 'Headless Rider' was a female. "Oh, um…She's not actually…you see, Shizuo-chan brought her…" As Shinra was explaining why she was here, Cheryl quietly walked out, but not before saying "Um, it was nice meeting you…Celty." Then she quickly walked towards the elevator. "What a day…" she muttered to herself as the elevator closed with a soft 'ding'.

As she walked outside into the bright sunlight and groaned slightly, there were still people all around. She glanced at her watch and realized that it was barely eight. She cringed as she heard cars honking and school girls giggling. She needed some coffee—and fast. She looked around for any coffee shops and spotted one right across the street. She let out a sigh of relief and quickly walked as fast as her sore feet could go.

It was a maid café. It was a maid café, filled with slightly provocatively dressed maid outfits. They had immediately greeted her with a "Welcome home mistress!" and proceeded to give her a hand towel and a menu. She thanked them warily in Japanese and sat down at the nearest table. Cheryl felt rather silly being inside a maid café, especially she wasn't at all an otaku or a tourist, but she was in desperate need of coffee. So, she looked down at the menu and realized they didn't just sell coffees or pastries; there were also complimentary services—such as grooming services, or simply playing video games with them.

Cheryl ordered a coffee and a bottle of water, as she waited for her drinks she looked around. There weren't many people as it was still a quarter to eight. But she saw someone that intrigued her eye; it was a man and a woman.

The man had a carefree smile on his face, he seemed to look like someone of a mix race, and the woman was dressed in all black, complete with a black hat. They seemed to be discussing something important in low voices, Cheryl could only hear snatches of their conversation, "…I dunno…she does seems like it though…" "…rare collection…only seen it once in my life!"

"Here are your coffee, and your bottle of water!" said one of the maids; Cheryl snapped back to reality and said "Oh…thanks."

Cheryl sipped her coffee and added a drop of cream. She listened in on their conversation again, as she stirred the hot liquid, "…her? Yeah, I noticed her…why?" "She's quite pretty…do you think she could be…" "Nah, I don't think she's an otaku…" Cheryl glanced behind her and they immediately stopped talking, "I think she can understand us!" Cheryl couldn't help but chuckle and took another sip of her coffee.

As the odd couple left, Cheryl sat in silence and took a large swig of her water. Her pounding headache had gotten better as she took another gulp of water. The cooling liquid ran down her throat pleasantly.

Cheryl opened her purse and began searching for her wallet, and as she opened the zipper to pay for the coffee and water. She looked into the large canvas mirror in front of her and realized in horror what a mess she looked.

Her mascara was smudged all over the place, her hair was tangled in curls, and her clothes once new and rather fashionable for the night-life, now looked utterly ridiculous in the morning.

She slapped down the money on the table and proceeded to go to the washroom to freshen herself up. But as she past the table where the otaku couple sat, she realized that one of them had forgotten his or her cell phone. It was vibrating and Cheryl felt inclined to look at the caller ID. She read the name on the screen: Erika Karisawa. The screen on the cell phone was glowing a bright light and it showed a woman with a black hat.

It was that woman from before…She clicked the answer button and said "Hello?" It was a man that answered, "Ah! Hello! Um…" Cheryl interrupted, "Hi, it seems that you left your phone at the maid café you were at earlier." The man let out a sigh of relief "Oh! Thank you for keeping it safely! I'll be back in a minute!" With that, the conversation ended with a click.

Cheryl sighed, as she looked at the time. That guy better be here within 3 minutes; she couldn't stand being in these ridiculous clothes any longer. But instead of going to the washroom to clean her face, she simply retrieved a couple of sanitary wipes and used her compact mirror to clean off the smudged mascara.

When time passed the two minute mark, the door suddenly swung open and a breathless man walked inside. "Welcome home master!" chorused the employed maids. His eyes wandered around, and saw his phone on her table, "Oh, thank you so much!" he said in English.

Cheryl rolled her eyes, apparently he didn't realize that it was her on the phone, "It's no problem, I was going to the washroom and I saw it lying on your table," she responded in Japanese. The man's eyes widened slightly (though it didn't make much of a difference) "Oh! So you do understand Japanese! I thought it was one of the maids that picked up!"

Cheryl gave him a tight smile, "No, it was me…glad I could help." She rose up and was prepared to leave. "Ah! Wait up!" yelled the man, Cheryl stopped and waited. "I'm so sorry, I forgot to introduce myself! My name is Walker Yumasaki, pleased to meet you!" He bowed, as Cheryl sighed inwardly, her enthusiasm didn't match with his as she introduced herself as well, "I'm Cheryl Danes, and I'm sorry to be rude but I kinda have to go…"

Walker's dumb smile faltered for a moment but said, "Ah! I'm sorry, but I feel like I owe you a favor for my phone!" Cheryl shook her head, and said "No…I just happen to…" But then she trailed off and thought of the man who saved her last night… "Do you know Shizuo Heiwajima?" She blurted out suddenly.

The man looked very surprised, and said, "Oh…Shizuo? Well, you can usually find him at night in Ikebukuro…" he said hesitantly, "Just follow the thrown vending machines and you'll find him."

Cheryl looked at him, debating whether or not if he was serious, but that was rather hard since he still had that stupid smile on his face. "Alright...follow the thrown vending machines…gotcha." She said sarcastically, but Walker seemed to miss her sarcastic tone and replied, "I'm glad I could help!" and walked away cheerfully.

Cheryl stood there dumbly for a moment as Walker walked passed her. She shook her head, "I've forgotten how strange Japan was…" she muttered to herself.

The moment she entered her penthouse, she immediately took off her clothes and jumped in the shower. 10 minutes later, dressed in a clean pair of jeans and t-shirt she flicked open her cell phone and realized she had a missing message. She realized the number was Mr. Nobu's private number, so she redialed the number…her call went straight to his voicemail.

Nonplussed, she went towards her purse and pulled out her checkbook and wrote down the amount of money she owed to Izaya. She grimaced as she wrote down the significant amount of zeros and sealed the check in a plain white envelope. This man was getting absurdly overpaid.

Cheryl groaned at the thought of going back to that place, but sometimes you gotta do, what you gotta do; so she picked up her cell phone and purse and walked out the door.

Some twenty-minutes later, she got out of the cab and walked into the upscale apartment. She rang the doorbell and she waited for almost a full minute with half-in mind of simply leaving with the money, when the door opened with Izaya Orihara smirking at her. "Hello, I wasn't expecting to see you so soon."

Cheryl smiled at him sarcastically, "Please, don't flatter yourself; I'm here to give you another job." Izaya continued to smirk and motioned her to come in, "Charming as always."

She took off her sneakers and stepped into his apartment, but suddenly something caught her eye. It was a coat hanging on the coat hanger and she realized something strange about the coat. Something was off about that coat; it gave off a feel of nostalgia. She walked towards it and felt it with her fingertips; the material was made out of expensive sheepskin and upon inspecting it closer she realized that it was hand stitched.

"Is something wrong?" asked Izaya his voice of mocking concern, Cheryl immediately stepped back from the coat, "I-it's nothing, I just thought…" but she trailed off, Cheryl stopped for a moment and asked, "Did you have a guest?" Izaya appeared not to have heard her as he was already by his desk, "Do you have something for me?" he asked.

Cheryl took out the envelope and gave it to him; he opened it and gave out a low whistle at the number of zeros. "I need another job for you," she explained, he grinned "I'm all ears," "The host I met yesterday, I want you to search his background for any info, who he is, his family, etc…" Cheryl thought for a moment, "and there is someone else I want you to find…his name is Shizuo Heiwajima."

Izaya's fingers stopped typing, "Shizuo? You want me to find Shizuo?" Cheryl looked at him, "Yes, is that a problem?" She looked at him carefully, and for the first time since she saw him, he stopped smirking. It was as if, he was angry, but his angry expression flickered so quickly, Cheryl wondered briefly if she had imagined it.

He didn't say anything as the sound of his slender fingers taping against the keyboard.

Finally he responded back, "You can find him in Ikebukuro at night—look for someone in a bartender's outfit…usually followed by thrown vending machines or stop signs."

Cheryl looked at him closely to see if he was joking or not; she saw none and the look in his eyes meant that he was being very serious. Izaya was already printing out a document, and passed it to her "This is a list of everything you need to know about that host Issei Isayama, his address, his income, etc…It should suffice for your investigation."

Indeed it did, the list included everything to his spending habits and his juvenile record. Cheryl bit back a smile and without another word, she left his apartment. But snuck another glance at that oddly nostalgic coat, "I swear I seen it somewhere…" she murmured to herself, but continued walking straight out the door.

Cheryl crossed the streets as she pondered, and suddenly she accidently bumped into a tall man wearing a long trench coat, "Sorry!" she exclaimed and the man said nothing and continued on walking. Then it was like a light-bulb appearing over her head, she realized why that strange coat was so familiar to her. It was a gift from Clarissa to_ Mr. Nobu_.

* * *

Izaya wasn't very happy at all. Damn, him for ruining his plans…and now, she wants to find him. He saw the whole thing from afar, and how Shizuo played the knight-and-shining armor and carried her gallantly over to Shinra. Oh, how he wished for a bus to come and run him over…But the foreigner hadn't suspected anything…yet. But really, sometimes she was too observant…and the way she was staring at that coat—it was as if she knew something about it…Izaya sighed as he looked out the window, into the bustling streets of Japan. Knowing what Cheryl was capable of, she had probably figured out who the coat belonged to, he only hoped that the old geezer knew how to talk himself out of her questions.

* * *

If the coat belonged to Mr. Nobu, what the hell was he doing in Izaya's apartment? _"No, no…Maybe I'm overreacting…"_ But she _knew_ that coat was his. She just knew, since it was Clarissa who picked out the coat herself. She remembered that time when Clarissa showed it to her and Cheryl had asked her who it was for, since she could tell that this coat wasn't cheap. Clarissa simply giggled and told her it was secret. But it was for _Mr. Nobu?_ True, he was a close family friend and was always extremely nice to the two of them, but Cheryl didn't really see the point of giving him a ridiculously expensive coat. Cheryl started walking faster and thought furiously, _"Great, more questions to ask…" _

**Tyffanie. T: :P Why was Mr. Nobu at Izaya's place? Does he have something to hid? Or was he trying to help Cheryl find her sister? And, what will happen when Cheryl meets Shizou? Stay tuned for the next chapitre! :) **


End file.
